


Paws and Claws

by IronWoman359, TheGremlinPrince



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, Morally Neutral Deceit Sanders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-10-17 21:41:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17568440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronWoman359/pseuds/IronWoman359, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGremlinPrince/pseuds/TheGremlinPrince
Summary: In a kingdom where practicing magic is outlawed and mythical creatures are being hunted, one boy is caught in the crossfire between the two sides of the fight. Only an act of pure, selfless love will lift his curse and return his life to normal…but who could ever love a monster like him?





	1. Prologue: Two Sides, One Coin

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter Warnings: Mentions of minor character death, knives, curses (the magical kind), parental neglect, body transformation, sadness/crying, Morally Grey Deceit.

If you were to ask Desmond, he would say his actions were perfectly justified.   
Cruel? Perhaps. But thanks to the King’s decree that all magical creatures in the land were to be hunted down and exterminated, the Belmont couple had exacted plenty of cruelty of their own. As far as Desmond was concerned, they deserved everything they had coming to them.

Remy, of course, didn’t agree, but he and Remy had agreed on so little since they’d been forced into hiding alongside the rest of the magical community that Desmond found he didn’t really care. Not that that stopped his old friend from trying to talk him out of his plans.

“Des… I know you’re angry. But this… don’t you think it’s a bit extreme?”

Desmond clenched his hands into fists, making no move to take the hot beverage he was handed in the secluded witch’s cottage.

“Yes, Remington, it is extreme,” he huffed. “That’s rather the point of the gesture as a whole, you see. After all, isn’t hunting down every magical creature and slaughtering them regardless of whether they are an actual danger to humans a bit _extreme_  as well?”

Remy sighed, and fiddled with the handle of his own mug.

“I mean, of course it is, but–”

“But _nothing!"_  Desmond growled, his eyes growing dark. “Joan is dead, Remy! They died _right in front of me_ , because those damn hunters didn’t see a person, all they could see was a dragon. Nothing but a horrible beast that needed to be destroyed.” He grit his teeth as his hands shook with anger. “I’m going to show those bastards exactly how wrong they are.”

“Des–”

Desmond stood before Remy could say any more and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head.

“We’ve suffered too much at their hands, Remy. I won’t let it go unpunished anymore. I won’t let Joan’s death mean nothing to them. They’re going to pay.”

 

 

* * *

 

_Dear King James,_

_While we regret to inform you that our mission to slay the Dragon Witch was once again unsuccessful, we have not returned from the forest in total defeat. The witch’s familiar is dead; one less dragon plagues our skies. In this hunt we also have vanquished a manticore, taken out several members of a pack of werewolves, and successfully destroyed a fairy circle. The explosives that you provided also proved effective in disposing of the jackalope den discovered at the edge of Black Oak Ridge. We will send another report after our next hunt._

_Your faithful servants,_

_Gareth and Cadence Belmont._

Gareth nodded to himself as he looked over the letter, then slid the parchment into an envelope. As he sealed it with a few drops of wax, his wife came up behind him and placed a bowl of stew on his desk, and he grunted appreciatively.

“Has Patton gone to bed yet?” he asked as he began to eat.

“He asked for you to come tell him a story about five times, but I told him you were busy and would do it tomorrow,” Cadence answered, and Gareth chuckled. 

“Alright, I’ll make sure tomorrow’s story is extra special.”

Cadence laughed, and tucked her chin over his shoulder.

“That’s a pretty tall order, coming from you. What are you gonna tell him?”

“Hmmm…” Gareth pretended to think. “How about the daring tale of how mommy and daddy slayed a terrible dragon and saved their village?”

“I like it,” Cadence replied, before giving her husband a peck on the cheek. “I’m gonna check on him one more time, then I’m heading to bed. And  _you_  should do the same,” she added, nudging him with her elbow. “We just got home. No more late nights for now.”

“Oh, alright,” Gareth agreed with a good-natured sigh. “I’ll be there in a moment.” 

He turned back to the stack of papers on his desk, mostly reports of monster sightings in the nearby areas that they were going to tackle next. He and his wife had been working for the King just shy of a year, and were quickly developing the reputation of the best monster hunters in the kingdom. He smiled to himself at the thought. If he and Cadence kept this rate of success going, their son would be able to grow up in a world completely free of the dreadful creatures that lurked in the forests.

Suddenly, a blood curdling scream came from the bedroom, and Gareth’s heart dropped into his stomach.

 _Cadence_.

He drew his dagger from his belt, not his strongest weapon by far, but what was closest on hand, and rushed towards his wife.

Gareth burst into the bedroom to find Cadence pressed against the wall with a knife to her throat. Wielding the knife was the being who was without a doubt their worst enemy.

“Dragon Witch,” he growled, stepping forward, but the witch pressed the dagger closer to Cadence’s throat.

“I would not come closer,” the witch hissed hissed. “Or you may find your child motherless.”

Gareth froze, but he did not let go of his dagger, gripping the handle as tightly as he could.

“You dare to come here,” he spat through gritted teeth. “You come into this home, you threaten this family–”

“You have come into our homes!” the Dragon Witch interrupted, his voice venomous. “You have threatened our families, torn down our places of safety, decimated our lives. You have allowed yourself to be deceived, have allowed fear and hatred consume your life. And you have been praised for it.” The witch’s face was twisted with grief. “You have taken everything we love and brought it to ruin, and your people hail you as heroes! I say  _no more_.”

The witch closed his eyes, breathing deeply, and when he opened them again, they were glowing yellow with power.

 _“You leave destruction in your wake,_  
_Our homes you burn, our lives you take._  
_You’ve ravaged all that we hold dear,_  
_So now **you**  must confront **your** fear._

 _Now upon you this curse I place,_  
_Your greatest fear you now shall face._  
_For the magic seal to break,_  
_You must truly love the thing you hate.”_

The Dragon Witch shoved Cadence towards Gareth, and as he rushed to catch her a puff of yellow smoke exploded where the witch had been, and in an instant he was gone.

“Cadence!” Gareth cried as he held his wife. “Are you alright? Did he–”

“No… no, he didn’t hurt me,” she gasped. “What… what did that mean? What he said?”

“I believe it was a spell…” Gareth said, frowning. “Though I must admit, I have no idea what the meaning could be.”

“I have a feeling that we’ll find out very soon,” Cadence said with a grimace.

Gareth opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get out a word, the sound of crying came from the other room, and the two froze.

 

* * *

 

When Patton was a small child, his mother and father had him pack everything he owned into a trunk and hired a carriage to the countryside. They rode in silence most of the trip, his parents occasionally sending each other glances over his head they thought he didn’t see. At the end of their journey, they pull up in front of an old fortress in the countryside that Patton remembered hearing his parents talk about before, in hushed tones. They spoke in hushed tones around him a lot, but he was sure it was just because there were a lot of grownup things they had to talk about, that they didn’t want him to worry about.  

His mother and father had carefully helped him bring his trunk up to the tallest, biggest tower of the fortress, which had a few simple furnishings set up around the room. They’d carefully explained to him that he’d be living here now so that he’d have more room for his... _outbursts_ , and that he’d be there until they could find a “better way to help you.” They showed him the pulley system that would bring him food and explained that he mustn't eat everything at once, because more food would only arrive every two weeks. Then they’d given him a pat on the shoulder, a kiss on the head, and left, locking the tower door from the outside.

Patton had happily unpacked his toys and set about exploring the nooks and crannies of the room. He hadn’t been worried at the time. His mommy and daddy were the smartest people in the world! They’d figure something out soon and he’d be back home; in the meantime, it was like he was on some sort of adventure! It would be fun!

Patton couldn’t remember when he stopped believing that. But when one month, after years and years of no contact and constant, aching loneliness, food didn’t arrive on schedule for two whole cycles, he found that he wasn’t even that surprised.

 _That_  somehow hurt more than anything, that he wasn’t even shocked at being completely abandoned. He’d known...he’d always known, really, that that’s what they’d done. Why deal with your cursed child when you could just lock them away in a tower so they wouldn’t be in the way?

Hot, bitter tears began to fall down his cheeks, and as they did, he felt his body begin to change.

He had grown accustomed to the sensation over the years, but that didn’t make it any less unpleasant. His limbs bulged and his back arched, tough leathery wings popping out and spreading across the room. His soft smooth skin grew white and blue scales, and his teeth elongated into fangs while his jaw stretched. The tears that slid from his eyes were hot and steaming, dropping the ground with a slight * _hiss_ * as Patton, now a large, shimmering dragon, curled up in the corner of the tower to cry.

That was how the Dragon Witch found him. 

“Patton Belmont.”

At first, Patton was so startled at hearing another person’s voice that he snarled, but the man in the black cloak seemed unperturbed by the outburst. In fact, he was smiling a slightly sad, wistful smile as he took in Patton’s appearance.

“Patton Belmont…” he repeated, eyeing Patton up and down. “My, how you’ve grown.”

“Who...who are you?” Patton asked warily, pressing his back up against the wall and curling his tail around himself. 

“My name is Desmond Atwood,” the man said, lowering his hood, and Patton was startled to see scales covering one side of the man’s face. “Though there are many who call me The Dragon Witch.” Patton’s eyes widened, and Desmond nodded. “Yes,” he said before Patton could speak. “I am the one that cursed you.”

A million thoughts ran through Patton’s head, a dozen questions, a hundred demands, he almost had half a mind to attack again, but all that managed to come out was one, half-choked word.

“Why?”

Desmond sighed, and even though it’d been years since Patton had had even a short conversation with anyone besides himself, Patton could tell that the man in his tower was truly sad about something.

“It was not so much a curse on you,” he explained, “as it was a curse on your parents. You see, many years ago, a new king took power in this land, and he decreed all magic to be a horrid, evil thing. He banned the study and practice of magic, forcing witches such as myself into hiding, and he commanded that any and all magical creatures be hunted down and killed indiscriminately.”

“In-discrim-inately?” Patton asked, sounding out the word slowly.

“Yes.” Desmond grimaced. “It means that the king wanted the creatures and witches killed, whether they’d done anything to hurt anyone else or not.”

“That’s awful!” Patton gasped, his eyes growing wide.

“It certainly is,” Desmond agreed. “And your parents are– well, they  _were_ –”

“Monster hunters,” Patton recalled.

“Some of the best in the business, unfortunately,” Deceit growled. “They killed several of my friends...including my old familiar. A dragon, like you, though as a familiar they could control their transformations.”

Desmond appeared lost in thought for a moment, and Patton shifted uncomfortably. It was sad to hear about Desmond’s friends, but it still was odd hearing his parents talked about with such hatred.

“I thought to teach them a lesson,” Desmond said after a pause. “Of all the creatures they fought, dragons were those that they feared and hated the most. I laid a curse on them that they must face their worst fear, and come to truly love the thing they hated.”

Patton’s eyes widened.

“So that’s why I–”

“I thought that by turning their only child into one of us, I could show them that magical creatures are really no different than humans.” Desmond folded his arms and looked around the tower. “In all honesty, I thought the curse would break within a year. I had no idea this would be their solution.”

Patton nodded, then frowned, and tilted his head to the side.

“Wait...you said they  _were_  monster hunters...not  _are_  monster hunters.”

Desmond looked up and grimaced.

“That’s...why I came here,” he whispered. “When I heard that the Belmonts had been killed...I knew I had to find you.” 

Patton’s eyes widened in shock, but somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to be sad about his parents’ deaths. He felt almost worse that he  _didn’t_ feel more grief...shouldn’t a child mourn the loss of their parents? 

“I assumed the curse hadn’t been lifted, since they fought against magic until their dying day,” Desmond continued. “I found out that they paid a man to bring food to this tower every fortnight, and I knew it had to be where they’d kept you.” He looked up at Patton, regret shining in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Patton. I had no idea until now that this is where you were all these years.”

Patton opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a whimper, and all of a sudden more tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was sobbing outright, which seemed to take Desmond by surprise.

“W-why?” Patton choked out through his sobs. “W-was it me? W-was I not good enough? Why c-couldn’t they...why did they just  _leave_  me?”

Desmond’s gaze softened, and he made a soothing sound, reaching up and gently ran his hand across Patton’s face, wiping the tears away. Patton shuddered a bit and leaned into the contact, and Desmond sighed.

“I wish I had a better answer for you,” he murmured. “But I truly don’t know. I  _am_  sorry, though, Patton. You didn’t deserve this curse, it isn’t right for you to bear their punishment.”

“S-so...can you lift the curse then?” Patton asked, a faint spark of hope shining desperately in his eyes. Desmond’s expression grew pained, and before he even replied, Patton knew what the answer would be.

“The spell was very specific,” he said quietly. “ _For the magic seal to break, you must truly love the thing you hate._  I cannot lift the curse myself, it would take…” he trailed off, his eyes widening.

“What?” Patton asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“I...I cannot lift the curse. But perhaps…” Desmond closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, Patton shrank back in fear. They were glowing an eerie yellow, and his voice was deep and layered as he chanted:

 _“Love in its purest form alone_  
_Could all the parents’ sins atone._  
_But where they’ve fallen short and failed,_  
_Another being may prevail._  
_An act of love that’s pure and whole_  
_Will heal the cursed child’s soul.”_

Desmond closed his eyes again, and opening them, they were back to their normal color.

“What...what did you just do?” Patton asked, amazed.

“I gave the curse a...well, let’s call it an update. It no longer relies on your parents for the act of love that the magical seal requires to break, it can come from anybody.”

“Really?” Patton’s eyes widened, and as the thought filled his mind, he felt himself twist and shrink until he was a human again. Desmond was now a few inches taller than him, and he stared up at the witch hopefully. “So...what happens now?” 

"If you love someone, and they love you for who you truly are, without any selfish intentions or ulterior motives, then an act of pure love from that person will lift the curse," Desmond said simply.

“Okay!” Patton cried, then he frowned again. “But...I’ve never left this tower…” he said slowly. “And there’s really nowhere else I can go to stop my dragon form from hurting anyone by accident.” Patton wrapped his arms around himself, and Desmond hesitantly placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Where there are towers and dragons and souls in need of saving, adventurers and knights often may follow. With no one left below to tend to this building, its ownership falls to you. I can ensure you are still fed and kept comfortable, and you may remain here until someone who is capable of lifting the curse comes for you.”

“Oh, thank you!” Patton exclaimed, rushing forward and flinging his arms around Desmond.

The witch stiffened, but he awkwardly placed his arms around the boy’s shoulders. When Desmond pulled back, Patton’s eyes were bright and shining, and Desmond felt another stab of guilt. The poor thing was barely a teenager, still only a child, really. He didn’t deserve to suffer like this. Anger towards the Belmonts once again stirred in Desmond’s stomach, and he almost wished the pair were still alive just so he could curse them again, this time for leaving their son to such a fate.

“Very well then…” Desmond said, holding back a sigh. “Good luck, Patton Belmont.”

“Thank you!” Patton said again with a large smile.

Desmond nodded, then he raised up his cloak, and in a puff of smoke he was gone.

Patton stared at the space where he disappeared, almost in disbelief. After a moment, another puff of smoke rose up, and a basket full of food appeared, which Patton descended on eagerly. As he ate, he felt a tiny spark of hope reignite in his chest. For so long, he’d been alone; sure that he’d be trapped like this forever. For the first time in years, there was a chance he wouldn’t be.

All he needed was somebody who could love him.


	2. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prince Roman stops at an inn to rest after defeating a chimera that plagued a village...and meets an unusual man with an even more unusual suggestion.

Roman rode back into the village, tired, hungry, and with more than a few bumps and bruises, but victorious nonetheless. He smiled as a crowd formed behind him, their cheers following him into the town square. Once he reached the center of town, he paused and held his hand up. He waited for their shouts to did away into murmurs, then he spoke.

“People of Riversedge! The chimera that has plagued your fair village these past weeks is now dead! You may sleep in peace again, knowing your herds and children are safe from its jaws!”

The crowd erupted into more cheers, and Roman bowed.

“Please, Your Highness,” a voice to his right spoke above the ruckus, and Roman turned to see the head of the village council staring up at him. “Allow us to repay you in some way for what you’ve done for us.”

“No, my lady,” Roman declared with another bow. “I am merely doing my duty as your prince. It would be unbecoming for me to ask for a reward.”  

“I...Your Highness, it would be improper if we did not–”

“My lady,” Roman interrupted as he dismounted. “All that I ask of you is that you direct me towards a place in town where I may lay my head for the night, and a stable for my horse.”

“Oh! Of course, your highness, right this way.”

The crowd parted as Roman followed the head of the council through the streets until they reached a small inn at the edge of town.

“It is not much, but the beds are warm and the stable is dry, your highness,” the woman said with a bow.

“Thank you, my lady,” Roman replied, nodding his head in respect. “You honor me with your hospitality.”

Roman handed a gold coin and the reins of his horse to the stable boy out front then slipped into the inn before the woman could reply. Heads turned and voices paused as he entered, but he was used to this treatment and ignored it, heading instead straight for the man behind the counter who bowed low as Roman approached.

“Your Highness. We are humbled by your presence. For you, the finest room in the inn, at no charge of course...”

“That won’t be necessary, my good sir,” Roman interrupted. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of your well deserved revenue. How much?”

“I...Your Highness, I–”

“How much?” Roman repeated, and the innkeeper stammered out his price. Roman felt eyes watching him as he paid the man, but he was used to commoners staring whenever he brought out his coin purse, so he ignored the sensation and strode up the stairs.

He didn’t notice one pair of eyes that continued to follow him, didn’t see the owner of said eyes down the remaining contents of a steaming mug or hear the stranger mutter:

“Hmm...now  _that_  is very interesting.”

He simply found the room that was to be his, locked the door behind him, and flopped down onto the bed in what most would consider a very un-princely manner. But hey, there was nobody here to see him. What did it matter if he acted a bit undignified?

Roman sighed and began to strip away his armor, wincing in pain as the movement irritated the minor injuries he’d received in his tousle with the chimera. Honestly, he was lucky to have gotten away with only a few bumps and bruises...dodging the swipe of lion’s paws and blasts of fire breath had been no easy feat, to say nothing of dealing with the creature’s snake-tail. Roman pulled his chainmail shirt over his head...and froze.

His earlier assumption about nobody being there to see him had been inaccurate.

A bright pair of yellow eyes stared at him from the window, and Roman gripped his sword on instinct. He took a step forward, then let out a relieved sigh as he let his sword arm relax.

“Well, hello there.”

A black cat sat on the windowsill, its tail twitching back and forth as it trained unblinking eyes on the prince.

“You gave me quite a scare there,” Roman chuckled. “But you’re just a pretty little kitty, aren’t you?” He reached forward as if to pet the creature, but the cat hissed and arched its back, and Roman quickly pulled away. “Okay, okay! Goodness gracious, there’s no need for that kind of attitude.”

Roman swore the cat arched an eyebrow at him, but he dismissed it as his eyes playing tricks on his mind. It  _had_  been a very long day, after all.

“Well, I’d love to stay up and chat, pretty kitty, but a prince needs his beauty rest!” Roman bowed dramatically, then slid into bed. He blew out the candle on the side table and murky shadows engulfed the room. The cat did not move, its large yellow eyes unblinking as it watched Roman shuffle about under the blankets.

“Goodnight, pretty kitty,” Roman called sleepily before closing his eyes and letting himself be carried away into sleep.

 

* * *

 

The cat sat still for a moment, then it yawned, stretched, and hopped from Roman’s windowsill to the branch of a nearby tree. In a few moments it was on the ground, and it was about to slip away into the alley behind the inn when a voice called into the darkness, making it freeze.

“Well well well...this night is just  _full_  of unexpected faces.”

The cat slowly turned to see a familiar figure leaning against the wall of the inn, arms folded in front of him and one eyebrow quirked upwards.

“Now, the prince being at this inn at the same time as me? Crazy coincidence, but I can believe it. The prince and  _you_  being here at the same time? Even crazier, much harder to swallow, but not impossible, I ‘spose.”

The man leaned forward, the moonlight gleaming off the white thread embroidered into the hood of his cloak.

“But babe, I’m having trouble accepting that all  _three_  of us happened to be here on this fine summer’s eve.”

The man smirked as the cat glanced around and shifted its weight uncomfortably.

“So the question obviously is...were you following him, or were you following me?”

Silence filled the alley, and after a moment the man sighed.

“Then again, I guess now it doesn’t really matter. Go on then, run along.”

The cat’s ears twitched forward in surprise, and the man chuckled.

“What? I’m not gonna stop you. I know better than to get in his way.” The man turned to leave, but paused, glancing back over his shoulder at the cat. “Just, do me a favor and tell him this from me:  _just because you think you know what you’re doing doesn’t mean you aren’t being stupid_.”

He winked, and with a swish of his cloak he was gone, rounding the corner to the front of the inn, and after a moment, the cat slunk away as well, leaving nothing but starlight left in the alley.

 

* * *

 

 

Roman made his entrance to the main room of the inn early the next morning, and was greeted with the smell of hot porridge cooking over an open fire.

“Your Highness!” the woman leaning over the pot cried in shock, bowing low. “I apologize, but breakfast is not ready for you! You’ve risen sooner than we’d thought you would and–”

“It is quite alright, my good lady,” Roman interrupted, raising his hand with a smile. “I can wait for a few minutes. It already smells delightful.”

The woman flushed pink before nodding in thanks and returning her attention to her work. Roman sat down, content to watch the embers glow in the fire for awhile, before he realized that he wasn’t alone in the open space. Sitting in the corner, quietly sipping from a mug of something hot, was a man wearing a long, black traveler’s cloak. The hood was lined with a fine, white embroidery, and the man had it drawn up, despite sitting indoors on a fair day.

And his eyes were trained right on Roman.

Roman gave a smile and a nod towards the man, being used to commoners staring at him in public, but what the stranger did next surprised even him. The man stood up and actually  _came towards_  Roman’s table.

“Prince Roman,” the man said, drawing his hood back as he approached and giving a small nod of respect. “I hope you won’t consider me too bold, but would you consider taking your breakfast with me? Eating alone is really such a bore”

Thoughts of what his father would say about such behavior briefly flitted through Roman’s mind, but he nodded and gestured to an empty chair across from him.

“I couldn’t agree more, sir…?”

“Remington,” the man supplied, taking his seat. “Though you can call me Remy, most folks do. Remington is such a mouthful, to be honest.”

“I suppose it is,” Roman agreed, eyeing the man curiously. While he didn’t appear to be more than ten years older than Roman himself, there was something odd about the way he carried himself...he had an air of confidence and ease that suggested youth, but his eyes, piercing and gray, seemed to hold much more wisdom and experience than one would expect from looking at the rest of him.

“Again, you will forgive my boldness,” Remy said, interrupting Roman’s thoughts. “But I simply can’t hold back my curiosity...what is the Crown Prince of Aromania and only heir to the throne doing fighting chimeras in the remote parts of the countryside?”

“You give me too much credit, sir,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow. “I am not yet the Crown Prince.”

Remy waved his hand dismissively.

“You will be within the year, if I’m remembering my dates right. Besides, Crown Prince or not, you’re still here, in Riversedge of all places, and now there’s one less chimera in the world. Forgive me for thinking so, but that’s a bit of an odd pastime for a prince.”

“Perhaps,” Roman said slowly. “But those who lived under that creature’s tyranny can now sleep a little more soundly at night. Isn’t that what the goal of a prince should be? To protect his people from whatever may wish to do them harm?”

“A prince could easily just order his soldiers to investigate chimera reports,” Remy countered.

“Ah…” Roman looked down, clasping his hands together. “Well, a  _prince_  could not easily do that...the  _Crown Prince_  could...but again, I do not yet hold that title.”

Remy folded his arms, staring at Roman pointedly.

“The statement still stands, it is odd for someone of your stature to concern yourself with what many others in your position may call too trivial, or too dangerous, to handle personally.”

“Who  _are_  you?” Roman asked, staring in disbelief at the stranger he’d found himself debating with. He talked with the wit and confidence of a nobleman, but his clothes suggested he was middle class at best.

“Just a traveler,” Remy said with another wave of his hand. “I’m in town to look for the rare herbs that grow in this part of the riverbank.” He fixed Roman with a pointed stare, and Roman swallowed. “You still have not answered. Why are  _you_  here?”

Roman clenched his hands into fists.

“It’s my duty to be a leader,” he answered eventually. “ Someday, a king. And a king who leads others where he himself would not go or gives orders that he himself would not carry out is nothing more than a coward hiding behind a crown.”

Remy’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair, regarding Roman with a new expression.

“The words of King Thomas,” he said simply, and Roman nodded.

“From the speech he gave at his coronation. You’ve read it?”

“Yes…” Remy murmured, almost to himself. “I...have read it, on occasion.” He shook his head, then looked back to Roman. “He is an admirable man to have as a role model.”

“He was the best king Aromania’s ever had,” Roman stated, and Remy nodded thoughtfully.

“I may just be inclined to agree with you.”

He suddenly got to his feet, and Roman was so startled that he stood as well.

“Well, Prince Roman, I must be on my way. But if to help and protect the innocent is what you desire…”

“Yes?” Roman asked, cocking his head.

“It may serve you well to travel along the river to the east. After a day’s ride or so, you’ll come upon a small settlement, barely a village anymore. Any people who are left would tell you to steer clear of the tower on the hill.  _I_  would tell you otherwise. You may find yourself in the face of danger the likes of which you’ve never seen, but behind it all lies a lonely soul that is desperate need of help.”

“Wha-”

“It’s been many years, and not once has the right person ever been able to breach those tower walls...but if there is anyone left in Aromania who’d be able to, it may just be you.” Remy bowed then, and pulled his hood back over his head. “It was a pleasure, Your Highness.”

Then he was gone, his cloak whipping out behind him as he exited the inn. Roman stared after him, trying to figure out what exactly he’d just been told.

“Oh my...what did old Remy say now?” the woman at the cooking pot asked, and Roman turned.

“You know him? Who is he?”

“Oh, just a traveler we see here often,” she sighed, glancing down at her porridge. “He’s some kind of herbalist I think, he always comes through here and picks the plants that grow on the riverbank. But he’ll sometimes have the strangest conversations with people...on more than one occasion he’s scared a potential customer away!” She shook her head, and looked at Roman apologetically. “I’m sorry if he bothered you, Your Highness.”

“No...no bother,” Roman muttered, before he turned and bowed to the woman, making her blush. “My lady, thank you for your hospitality. It was most appreciated.”

“Oh, will you not stay for breakfast then?”

“No…” Roman said, looking towards the door. “I believe that I shall get an early start on traveling...”

“I see,” the woman nodded. “Returning to the capitol?”

“Not just yet,” Roman answered. “First...I must ride east.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *claps hands excitedly* I am getting excited for this story again! Hopefully it won't be so long before the next update....and I AM planning on working on my other WIPs too, dont' worry...I just have a lot on my plate right now, so updates on older WIPs will probably be...sporadic, haha. Thank you all so much for your support, it means the world to me! Can't wait to share more of this story with you. -Taylor <3


	3. A Lonely Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Patton loses more and more hope with every passing day, Roman sets off to find the tower Remy told him about...with a watchful eye following his every move.

The first time he’d heard someone climbing his tower, Patton had been excited.

It was a few months after the Dragon Witch had appeared, and Patton had been doing his best to keep his spirits up. There was hope now, real hope for the first time in years, he just had to hold onto it! So he tried to stay strong; he sang songs, he fed crumbs to the mice and birds that made their way into the tower, he distracted himself as best he could, and when he felt the pangs of loneliness in his chest grow, he tried to force them down by whispering  _it’s alright, someone will come for me, it will be alright, it will be alright soon._   

That didn’t always work, and sometimes he found himself as a dragon, curled up in the corner with steaming hot tears dropping to the stone floor, but he knew it wouldn’t be forever…one day, someone would come for him and he wouldn’t have to live like this anymore. He just had to wait.

So when he first heard scrambling and scraping from the outside of the tower, he had been excited. He rushed to the window, already feeling the beginnings of a transformation as his spirits rose, but as he poked his dragon’s head out to see who was coming, he was met with an angry shout and a flying arrow from a crossbow. Patton yelped, and darted back inside, the tingle of magic inside that had been about to turn him back into a human stopping abruptly. Instead, as his heart beat wildly in his chest, he could feel his claws and teeth growing longer, his scales growing tougher, the heat in his center growing hotter.

“Foul beast!” a shout came from below, and Patton cowered away from the window. “Prepare to taste my blade and take your final breath!”

“No…” Patton whimpered, his heart sinking. This knight wouldn’t be able to save him. All he could see when he looked at Patton was a monster that needed slaying.

The knight’s head appeared in the window, crossbow at the ready, and Patton acted on instinct.

“Get  _OUT!_ ” he roared, and the knight’s eyes widened in fear as Patton opened his mouth and let a stream of fire shoot towards the window. The knight made the very smart decision to let go of the windowsill, dropping several feet before he managed to find purchase on the tower wall. He tried a few more times to scale the tower, but Patton fought him off each time and the knight eventually gave up, shouting a few more obscenities at the dragon for good measure.

As he finally rode away, Patton collapsed on the tower floor and began to cry. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but the next thing he knew he was waking up in human form, curled up on the floor in a patch of sunlight streaming through his window.

That day, he learned that it would be harder than he thought for someone to break his curse.

There were more knights through the years, each just as cruel and vicious as the first. Time and time again, a tiny spark of hope would light in Patton’s chest…only for it to be quickly stomped out as again and again they proved what Patton now knew to be the truth. Patton was nothing but a monster.

And nobody could love a monster.

— — —

“What do you  _MEAN_  he saw you!” Desmond roared. “What was he even  _DOING_ there?”

“I-I, I don’t know!” the boy stammered hurriedly. “I think…he just goes there sometimes, the lady at the inn said something about plants…”

“I do not believe this,” Desmond grumbled. “What is the point of having you go on secret missions if you’re incapable of  _actually_  keeping a secret?”

“I’m sorry!” the boy pleaded, taking a step away and raising his hands. “I couldn’t help that he was there, it isn’t my fault that he and the prince stayed at the same inn!”

Desmond glared at him, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Fine. You know, it’s fine. I’ve known Remy for years, I know how to handle him.” He sighed, and turned to the pile of notes and diagrams on his desk, muttering to himself. “It’s fine, we’ll just have to change some of our plans around and-”

“Uh, actually…he said he wasn’t going to get in your way.”

Desmond paused, and turned back to the boy.

“What?”

“He…he said he knew better than to try and get in your way…” the boy fiddled with the edge of his cloak. “And…he said…”

“What?” Desmond frowned, and leaned forward. “Tell me, what did he say?”

The boy looked up and met Desmond’s eyes.

“He said  _just because you think you know what you’re doing doesn’t mean you aren’t being stupid._ ”

“Oh…” Desmond sucked in a breath and the boy shrunk back.

“W-what? What does that mean?”

“Remy’s being  _cryptic,_ ” Desmond said with a sigh. “Which means he’s playing things close to his chest, so we have to be ready for anything.”

He whirled around and the boy flinched, and the Dragon Witch sighed again.

“Always so skittish. Do me a favor and grow yourself a backbone, then get back out there and follow the prince. Don’t let him out of your sight. His birthday is approaching soon, and you know what that means. We haven’t got much time.”

The boy nodded, then there was a flash and a sleek black cat stood where the boy had been a moment before. The witch and the familiar locked eyes for a moment, then the cat turned and darted out of the hut. Desmond sighed, and sank into a chair.

“Remy…” he muttered to himself. “What are you up to?”

— — —

Patton was incredibly sore.

He’d been stuck in his dragon form for over a week now, and while his tower had been more than roomy enough for him when he was young, he now found himself terribly cramped in the space. He wondered, sometimes, if the reason the tower wasn’t large enough for an adult dragon’s body was because his parents had thought they’d be able to break his curse before he grew this big. Or maybe they didn’t realize just how large he would truly get as he matured.

Or maybe, Patton thought with a dull ache in his chest, they just hadn’t cared enough to consider it at all.

Not that it really mattered now. It had been seven years since his parents had died, seven years since the Dragon Witch had come to his tower and given him a chance of breaking the curse. Seven years of disappointment as knight after knight ventured into his tower with swords and bows drawn, angry voices sending him into a panicked transformation and leaving him no choice but to fight his would be rescuers away.

His transformations took longer and longer to come out of these days, and the fear that one day he would lose his humanity completely kept him awake at night, wrapped in every blanket he had in the tower in a desperate attempt to stop himself from shaking. When he found himself trapped within his dragon’s skin, there wasn’t much he could do now besides curl up into a ball and wait to turn back into a human.

Which, with how hopeless he felt almost all the time nowadays, was easier said than done.

A sudden screech from outside caught Patton’s attention, and he lifted up his head just in time to see a large barn owl fly up and perch on the windowsill of the tower. The bird let out another call, quieter this time, and Patton smiled softly.

“Hi there, pretty bird,” he murmured. “How’ve you been?”

The owl didn’t speak, as it was just an ordinary barn owl, but Patton liked to think that his feathered friend who flew by from time to time could understand him anyway. It was either believe that or face the crushing loneliness of his tower day after day.

“I’ve been about the same,” Patton continued, stretching out his left wing as much as he could and glancing at the pale blue scales he could see out of the corner of his eye. “As you can tell,” he added, sighing.

The owl squawked in response and cocked its head, fixing Patton with a pointed look.

“What?” Patton sighed, resting his head back down on his claws. “It’s hardly surprising, is it? It’s not like I have a lot to be happy about right now.”

The owl ruffled his feathers, then looked back and forth between the window and Patton several times. Patton lifted his head up again, and the owl dutifully hopped out of the way so he could look.

Sunlight poured into the room, and the stunningly blue sky outside was dotted with the whitest, puffiest clouds Patton had seen in a long time. A soft warm breeze carried the scent of pine needles and wildflowers through the tower window, and Patton closed his eyes, breathing deeply and taking it all in. When he opened them again, the owl had vanished from its perch, but Patton barely had time to wonder where his little friend had gone before the bird returned with a freshly plucked wild daisy in its beak.

It dropped the flower onto Patton’s claw, and screeched expectantly. Patton laughed, and as he did so, he felt a tingle of warmth glowing at his center. A flash of magic, and he was human again, a freshly picked daisy in his fist. He brought the flower up to smell, and he smiled up at the owl.

“Thank you, pretty bird,” he cooed, reaching forward and giving his friend a scratch on the head.

The owl leaned into the touch, then its gaze fixed on something above Patton and it squawked again.

“Hmm?” Patton glanced up, then sighed when he realized what the bird was looking at. “Oh, these.”

He ran a hand over the horns that were protruding out of his fluffy brown mess of curls.

“These haven’t gone away the last several times, I’m afraid,” he said, stroking the owl absently. “Guess that Dragon Witch really lives up to his name, huh?”

The owl ruffled its feathers, and Patton could have sworn it frowned, and he shook his head fondly.

“Now now, there’s no use getting angry, pretty bird. What’s done is done, we can’t change that, can we now?” He looked down at the flower in his hands and he sighed. “We just have got to live with what we’ve got now. And what I’ve got…” he looked around his tower, then wrapped his arms around himself. “Is this.”

The owl screeched indignantly, then took off from the windowsill. Patton went to the edge to watch as his friend flew in a few small circles outside before returning to its perch. It squawked again, flapping its wings a few times for good measure, before fixing its unblinking stare onto Patton.

“Out…there?” he asked, cocking his head. The owl chirped in approval, leaning towards Patton then turning and leaning back out of the window again. “ _Me_  out there…” Patton supplied, then he sighed. “Oh, I know pretty bird. Believe me, I know.”

Patton turned and set the flower down on his desk in the corner, then turned back to the owl with a sad smile.

“I wish I could leave, fly away like you. But I’m too big now as a dragon to get out, and there’s no way down as a human. Besides…” Patton felt tears prick at the edge of his eyes, and he quickly wiped them away. “There’s…nowhere for me to go. I can’t…I’m not…”

More tears fell, and Patton could tell he was in danger of transforming again, but so, evidently, could his visitor, and the owl chirped again, hopping forward and pushing his head against Patton’s hand. Patton smiled shakily, and began stroking the owl’s soft feathers.

They stayed there in silence, for how long, Patton wasn’t really sure, but bit by bit, Patton felt himself calming down. He let his hand fall away from his feathered friend, and he took a deep breath.

“I’ll be okay now, pretty bird,” he said quietly, and nodded at the owl. “Go on now, you have your dinner to catch I’ll bet.”

The bird let out one final screech, before it spread its wings and took off from the window again, leaving Patton once more to his solitude. Patton sighed once the bird had gone, glancing over at his reflection in a mirror that stood by his bed. The horns on his head were longer now then the last time he’d been human, but he couldn’t let himself think about that now.

He lay down on his bed, savoring the feeling of being able to stretch his limbs again before pulling a blanket over his head to block out any sunlight. It may have still technically been morning, but Patton found that he just was too tired to continue the day. There wasn’t much for him to do in the tower anyway, and none of his usual past times seemed appealing to him just then. He closed his eyes, and waited to be taken by sleep.

— — —

Even though the sun had barely risen when he’d started out, it was still nightfall by the time Roman came upon a scattering of shacks and huts by the river that could be called a village. He dismounted and took his horse’s reins in his hands, entering the settlement on foot. Most of the villagers had retreated indoors for the day, and the streets (if you could even call the beaten down strip of earth running between the buildings a street) were eerily empty as Roman headed towards what he assumed to be the village leader’s home, as it was the only structure in the town that stood at two stories high.

Roman knocked on the door, stroking his horse’s neck as he waited for an answer. The door cracked open, and a pair of curious eyes peered out.

“What d’you want?” a boy looking to be in his early teens asked.

“Hello,” Roman said, smiling down at the boy. “Tell me, is this where I can find the village leader?”

The boy raised an eyebrow, but nodded and turned, calling over his shoulder into the house.

“Gramps! Someone’s at the door for you!”

“Is it Margerie about her chickens again? Because if it is, then I swear–”

“Nah, it’s some guy in armor!” the boy called back, glancing at Roman again. “And he’s got a horse with him!”

“Oh? Very well, then.”

A soft grunt, then the door was pulled open, revealing a man stooped over with age standing behind the boy. His eyes swept over Roman, lingering on the royal crest on his tunic and saddlebags before turning to his grandson.

“Kai, please tend to our guest’s horse. Lucy will have to share her paddock tonight.”

The boy, Kai, nodded, and Roman handed over his reins, stepping into the house at the old man’s invitation. Once the door was closed behind him, the man turned and bowed as low as he could manage.

“Prince Roman, it is a great privilege. Many a knight has passed through our humble village, but never one as stately as yourself.”

Roman nodded, indicating with his hand that the man should rise.

“You honor me with your words, sir. I do hope I am not imposing.”

“Not at all, Sire,” the man assured him. “Please, come sit and rest yourself by the fire. Wherever it is you have ridden from, you must have travelled far to reach this place.”

“Is your village as isolated then in other directions as it is from settlements to the west?” asked Roman as he sat, grateful to finally have a break from riding.

“Indeed,” the old man nodded. “For years, there was nothing in this part of the countryside besides the Belmont Watchtower. A few decades ago, some settlers thought this would be a fine place to begin a new village, but not many people wanted to move somewhere so remote. Then, of course…after awhile, no one wanted to stay. Ah, but forgive me, I am rambling again.”

Roman cocked his head, smelling a story.

“Why would no one wish to settle here?” he asked. “The land looks good, and the river flows strong and clear. There is a pine forest I can see just over the northern ridge, no doubt suitable for hunting or trapping. Distance from civilization aside, it seems to me like this would be a fine place indeed to build a homestead.”

The man smiled wryly.

“Indeed, perhaps with a few more years work this place could have become quite prosperous. Then, nearly fifteen years ago, something changed.”

Roman leaned forward expectantly.

“The Belmont Watchtower no longer sits abandoned,” the elder continued. “A terrible monster now resides there, and though it has never left the tower to our knowledge, none wish to live in its shadow. The only villagers left are those who cannot leave, because they have nowhere else to go, or because they are too old or frail to travel.”

“Like yourself,” Roman asked, and the man nodded.

“My wife died many years ago, and my only daughter did not live to see her son’s fourth birthday. My grandson, Kai is ill as well, and cannot travel far. What’s more, over the years the villagers have begun to look to me for answers. We do not have much here, and it can be very lonely at times. But we make do.”

Roman nodded in understanding. 

“While I’m sure it is hard to imagine how, I do believe I understand your plight,” he said, thinking back on his own life at the castle. Sure, he had far more wealth and privilege than he knew what to do with, but being surrounded by servants and advisors and nobles could make you feel just as alone as being in a settlement with hardly any inhabitants. Roman would even go so far as to wager that the people in this tiny village often felt less lonely than he. At least they had each other. 

“And...the tower,” Roman asked, not wanting to dwell on such somber thoughts. “Who inhabits it?”

“As I said,” the man said with a frown, “a beast lives within its walls.”

“I have been told that if I wished to protect my kingdom, I would do well to face whatever is in that tower.

“Your Highness,” the man sighed. “As I said, you are not the first knight to have come here. In the past seven years or so, we have had many who sought to lay claim to whatever it is that creature is guarding. None have succeeded. While I have no doubt in Your Highness’s abilities, I must implore you to seek elsewhere for your prize. There are not many who can kill a dragon.”

Roman’s eyes widened. He was a capable warrior, it was true, but never in all his days had he faced down a foe as formidable as a dragon. He didn’t know if he could win in a fight against such a beast. He didn’t know if  _anybody_  could. He could hear his father’s voice in his head, telling him that he had no business riding across the country going on “pointless adventures” and chasing “flights of fancy.” But then, another voice echoed in his head.

_“You may find yourself in the face of danger the likes of which you’ve never seen, but behind it all lies a lonely soul that is desperate need of help.”_

“I appreciate your concern, good sir,” Roman said, with another nod. “But it is not a prize or glory that I seek. This is a task that I must do.”

The man shrugged in a way that said  _have it your way, then_ , before rising to his feet.

“Whatever your decision, Sire, it is late now.  Please, we have a spare room in this house for travellers. It is not much, but it is at your disposal.”

Roman nodded in thanks, and once again found himself in a sparsely furnished room, tugging off his armor. He glanced out the window, and saw the Belmont Watchtower peeking over a hill in the distance. A faint light shone from the tower’s window, and Roman felt a resolve stirring in his heart. He couldn’t explain it, but somehow, he  _knew_  that whatever was waiting for him in that tower would change his life.

And Roman was determined to be ready for it. 

 

 


End file.
